


We could fly, you and I

by alwayseven



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-07
Updated: 2011-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-14 12:37:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/149304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwayseven/pseuds/alwayseven





	We could fly, you and I

Brendon’s got his tambourine on his head and he’s grinning, eyes crinkled at the corners like he just can’t keep it in. It just feels like the right thing to do when Brendon leans into his space to share his mic on the chorus, just like he does every other night, and Ryan just turns and kisses Brendon, lips brushing the corner of his mouth.

Brendon goes completely still, a stunned look on his face, his grin slipping for a split second before he puts enough space between them that Ryan can breathe again and pretend like it didn’t even happen.

It’s just a split second moment in front of a couple thousand people, nothing really huge or all that significant.

But that’s when it starts, when everything changes.

*

It wasn’t like he planned it, like it was anything other than an impulse he couldn’t keep from acting on.

Brendon doesn’t behave like it was anything, and Ryan thinks he can pretend if Brendon can. Until Ryan doesn’t want to anymore, until it’s this thing that he wants to do all the time, kissing Brendon.

Spring skipped Orlando and it’s close to ninety degrees already, not even quite noon. Brendon’s shirtless, his jeans falling almost obscenely low, pulled tight across his ass. Ryan’s never noticed it before, but now he wants to take time to notice it all the time, how blatantly sexual Brendon is without trying.

Ryan’s following him to the stage for sound check and he can’t tear his eyes away from the dip of Brendon’s back, the swell of his ass in those impossibly tight jeans.

Ryan catches up, doesn’t even let himself think it over, just catches Brendon’s thin wrist in his fingers and pulls with just enough force that Brendon stumbles against Ryan’s chest.

He smells sweaty and sweet, his smile frozen on his face, confused. His eyes fall to Ryan’s mouth and Ryan groans and shoves forward, opening his mouth over Brendon’s, fingers digging into the base of his skull, holding him still.

Brendon tastes like the weed they smoked earlier, like juice and gum and Ryan licks into his mouth, licks the seam of his lips, the curl of his tongue when he opens his mouth, startled.

There’s a split second of confusion when it’s just Ryan doing the work, and then Brendon relaxes against him, fists his hand in Ryan’s t-shirt and hauls him closer. Brendon kisses him back, touches the tip of his tongue to Ryan’s and Ryan groans, feels it start low in his stomach, flaring up like slow heat.

When they break apart, Ryan breathing hard, Brendon’s eyes wide, lips pink and wet, they just stare at each other like they’re trying to figure out what’s going on.

*

He’s not an idiot, of course he’s thought about it, but he’s never before had an urge to lick Brendon’s teeth, to kiss him until his lips are numb, to touch the tips of his fingers to Brendon’s jaw, hold his mouth open.

Ryan is prone to fits of obsessive behavior and this becomes something like an addiction, wanting to kiss Brendon all the time. He likes the way Brendon lets him take the lead but he’s not passive in the way he arches forward, digs his fingers into Ryan’s hip, pushes his tongue into Ryan’s mouth.

After Orlando they’re on their way to Atlanta in the early afternoon. Ryan sits next to Brendon and touches his thumb to the pale skin on the inside of his wrist, tilts his head and gives him a smile.

“Want to make out?” he says and it’s not nearly as teasing as he wanted it to be but it doesn’t matter because Brendon’s face breaks into the sweetest smile and he doesn’t bother waiting until they get to the back of the bus, just turns his head where anyone could see them if anyone was around to notice and surges forward to press his mouth to Ryan’s.

It’s slower, less frantic and needy, more like trying to figure something out. Ryan cups Brendon’s cheek, licks his lower lip and swallows the sounds Brendon makes.

*

Kissing Brendon doesn’t equal Dating Brendon but Ryan finds himself thinking silly things like curling his fingers around Brendon’s when they’re sitting side by side in the back, or resting his palm on Brendon’s lower back when they’re posing for pictures.

Brendon seems like he’s thinking the same things, leaning his cheek against Ryan’s shoulder after the concert, smiling at him in the mirror as he changes out of his shirt.

The dressing room has emptied out and Brendon’s sitting on the edge of the makeup counter, shirtless, shoulders hunched, head down when Ryan comes out of the bathroom. He looks up when he hears Ryan and the smile he offers makes Ryan warm all over.

Ryan steps between Brendon’s legs, fits his palm around Brendon’s hip where his skin is still warm and slightly sweat damp.

Brendon lifts his chin, lips slightly parted and closes his eyes. Ryan rubs his thumb along the stubble on Brendon’s jaw and bends his head, kisses Brendon with his mouth closed, a brush of lips that makes Ryan’s heart speed up.

Ryan doesn’t know how to admit he doesn’t know what they’re doing so he just closes his eyes and tries to concentrate on breathing.

*

It’s a long drive from Atlanta to their next stop in South Carolina. Ryan’s sitting in the front on the sofa, reading a book Eric loaned him. Brendon comes up from the back and Ryan looks up, sets the book down.

“Hey, come here,” he says quietly, hooking his fingers in Brendon’s belt loop and tugging him forward.

Brendon straddles Ryan’s thighs, rests his weight on his knees. Brendon’s looking at Ryan like he’s trying to find something. Ryan doesn’t know what to tell him. He slips his fingers underneath Brendon’s t-shirt, rubs them over the grooves of Brendon’s spine like they were made for Ryan’s hands.

This time with the awkward angle and the difference in height, their noses bump and their teeth knock together, Brendon’s teeth catching on Ryan’s lip. It doesn’t matter, Ryan just leans up hard into it, his palm on Brendon’s back pressing him closer.

 

[ the end ]


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